Coming of Time
by Earthcat123
Summary: Basically, this is a story I wrote a while ago because I was annoyed that Becker seems to have no background. All the other characters have some little mention of life outside the ARC and what they used to do and he doesn't so I wrote my own. Review plzz!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1~ Introductions **

Maria Holland sat at her desk in the small, dark room that she called her office. Slap bang in the middle of the war zone in Afghanistan, the tiny but efficient Field Hospital where she worked was, as always, alive with activity and the smell of blood. She found herself thinking, as she frequently did, about her family back home in London. Her father in his late eighties with a multi-billion pound estate which he was adamant not to give to either of his two children, seeing as he had a passionate hatred of the pair of them, all because they left home at sixteen and still got decent jobs. Her brother, Sebastian, on his longboat in Nottingham or wherever he happened to fancy going. She hadn't heard from Seb in about six months now, and hoped that his wife and kids were driving him mental. She hadn't met her niece yet, and smiled at the photo of the four members of her brother's family upon the top of her desk.

Lou, her assistant, poked his head round the grubby doorframe.

"There's another lot come in, Ri, where do you want 'em?" Maria sighed and stood up, immediately wishing she hadn't. Rubbing the new bump on her head from the low ceiling, she followed Lou out of her office.

"Uhh, wherever there's space I think, Lou. If there is any, that is," The boy ran off in the opposite direction, shouting something about Ward 2, which had been emptied earlier that morning. Maria fished an icepack out of the industrial use freezer and plastered it to her forehead with a finger, making a soon-forgotten mental note to do something about the low ceilings as she made her way to Ward 2 to inspect the fresh victims of war.

Captain Becker shook his head in bewilderment as another twenty of his men were carted off to the nearest Field Hospital. He knew that the closest one was too far away, and that Doctor Holland would only get six or seven of them alive. On an up-note, however, he also knew that this new doctor was something of a miracle worker, and however many men arrived living at that hospital, all of them would come back, no matter how severe their injuries. Becker accepted the cold beer from his Sergeant gratefully, leaning back against the bonnet of his jeep.

"How many more do you think, Sir?" Sgt Harry Williams asked. Williams was a young soldier, one of those who, like Becker, had somehow managed to get very high up in the military very quickly. Becker didn't turn to face his Sergeant, but stared up at the solitary cloud floating in the middle of the blue wasteland that was the sky. He already knew the answer to his question.

"How many more what, Harry?"

"How many more are we gonna loose, sir. I mean, we've been out here for two months and already we've lost..." Williams paused to consider the total. "How many?"

"Thirty five," Becker didn't need to think about it, he made sure that the casualties of his troop were at the front of his mind at all times. "On the other hand, though, we've had thirteen back from Holland," Williams' shoulders dropped.

"Yeah, I guess, but that means that we've had to send forty eight good men to that place. I know that Holland's lot work their socks off and all, but..." He was cut off by his Captain

"Hey, no hospital in the whole of this goddamned war had doctors as good as Holland and his lot, presuming that he's a he. We could be stuck with Robertson, and then we really would be stuffed," Sgt Williams grinned and uttered his short, barking laugh.

"Suppose you're right, sir, I almost died of a cold in Robertson's sorry excuse for a surgery," Becker grinned, the emotion not quite reaching his eyes as the truth of Williams' words dawned on him. They had arguably the best doctor in the British and American armies put together, yet somehow Becker didn't look forward to meeting this legendary physician. The circumstances of their introduction wouldn't be over a cup of coffee and some chocolate digestives, that much was certain.

Maria stood with horror imprinted upon her features as she stared at the twelve, blood-stained faces that, no matter how much she wished otherwise, she could never have saved.

"That's another twelve from that damn Becker. He must know by now that what he's doing is suicide, surely?" Lou shrugged with a look of depletion in his eyes.

"I met Becker once. Well, not really met, more like got nodded at, but he seemed like a pretty decent guy. And anyway, he can't choose whether or not..." Lou immediately regretted saying anything, Maria was always dangerous when she lost lives, and twelve was a pretty big loss in her book.

"What? He can't choose if he stays or not, is that it? I don't care whose responsibility it is, we had fifteen the other day, and I could only save six of them! They're wasting lives over there!" She slouched back down in her seat and plonked her chin in her cupped hands, puffing out her cheeks at regular intervals in the awkward silence that followed. Lou risked saying something.

"Well, maybe if... What if we moved closer to them? I mean, they're, what, seventeen miles south? I'm not entirely sure it's entirely Becker's fault that so many die, maybe it's that they cant get here quick enough," He shrugged again.

"Lou," Maria said in a matter of fact way, "You, my friend, are a genius! Why the toothpicks didn't I think of that before?" Lou giggled at Maria's highly creative use of words, before jumping up out of his chair and grabbing the phone at Maria's rapid orders. "Get hold of Colonel Richards, tell him to get a building team out there ASAP, in fact, screw that, I don't care if it's tents and floorboards as long as I have myself a clean camp that's usable in three days max!" Maria was out of the door in a trice, finding the other doctors in her building and telling them that she and Lou were leaving.

Becker took up his usual slouch against whatever he happened to be standing in front of, and watched the sizeable collection of tents being strung together about half a mile away from his camp, the thoughts of Colonel Richards' demanding "quarters" going through his mind.

"Wonder what's going on over there," Sgt Williams thought aloud.

"It's probably Colonel Richards paying us a visit. Don't know what he wants, though," Williams wasn't so sure.

"I heard something about a new hospital camp being set up; apparently this Holland character is getting pissed off at the amount of corpses we're dumping on her doorstep,"

"Her? Holland's a woman?"

"More like a girl. Heard someone say she's, like, twenty nine or something," Becker liked the sound of Holland even more, now that he knew this fanatical doctor was a woman, only three years younger than him and had set up shop right next to his contingent.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Williams," he said to his young Sergeant, who detected the tone in his Captain's voice immediately and smirked to himself.

"Permission to speak frankly, Sir?"

"You don't need to ask, go on,"

"You've got no chance,"

I watched Ri practically dancing around the new building, if you could call it a building. It was actually a collection of very large tents, strung together to form a field hospital that was, actually, awesome. Ri flopped herself down on one of the beds that had just been brought in, directing where she wanted everything to go.

"Right you lot, I want six down this end, six on the opposite wall and six down the middle, three and a half metre gaps between them, the life support systems and all that shite on the left, personal bed-side tables on the right, don't get it wrong. Please don't forget to label them all up, properly this time; I don't want to be giving hypo boosts to the wrong patients. Make every ward the same, please," The workers scurried around all over the place, pulling very delicate equipment behind them. I winced as they ran into a wall with a heart rate monitor, but Ri just laughed.

"What are you worrying about, Lou? They can throw the damn things at the ceiling for all I care, as long as they catch it before it hits the floor. Come with me, I wanna show you something," I followed her through the canvas covered corridors and through an entrance.

"That's the only complaint I have about this place," Ri said, pausing in the entrance. "No doors. So, Lou, whaddya think?" I stared around the room, only about five square metres, furnished with a desk, fridge, filing cabinet, even a sofa. I blinked in surprise at Ri, who was smiling in the doorway.

"Is this mine?" I managed to ask, completely shocked at having my own office. Ri nodded, a grin still plastered to her face.

"You can thank Colonel Richards' wife for the sofa, apparently she made him get rid of it as it clashed with the six thousand quid coffee table," Ri smirked at the thought "And I thought my dad was the only overspending git who would ditch six thousand quid on a coffee table. Oh, make yourself useful and go find this Becker guy, will you? I think its time he and I met," I tore myself away from the polished oak desk and jumped into one of the many jeeps waiting outside. All of a sudden I felt sorry for Captain Becker. By Ri's tone of voice, I could tell that this "meeting" wasn't going to be very pleasant for him.

I saw the jeep coming before Captain Becker. He was far too busy fantasising about this Holland, taking strangely huge interest in the wing mirror of one of the armoured personnel carriers. I was pretty darn sure that if a man like Becker could be reduced to gazing at himself in a six inch, magnified wing mirror by this Doctor Holland, the rest of humanity had no chance. I was almost sorry I'd mentioned her in the first place. I threw a small rock at him, bouncing it lightly off his helmet.

"If you're quite done, sir, there's a jeep on its way up,"

"You know what, Williams; I think I'll pay Holland a visit, see how her new hospital's coming along," I sighed.

"Sir, before you go charging off anywhere, THERE'S A JEEP COMING UP THE ROAD!" Becker blinked once or twice at me, seeming to come out of his romantic trance.

"Ok, ok, Williams, no need to start shouting. I heard you the first time, you know," I rolled my eyes in complete despair at my Captain, before greeting the kid behind the wheel of the jeep. He was no more than nineteen or so, and I wondered who on Earth had brought him out here.

"I'm Lou Walker, Doctor Holland's assistant. I'm looking for Captain Becker," I waved Becker over to the jeep, and whispered so that Lou couldn't hear,

"Don't do anything really stupid, sir, Colonel Richards is bound to be there and if you get caught flirting with her, you'll get demoted back down to cadet, you know that,"

"I know what I'm doing, Williams," was all he said before sliding into the jeep. I hoped to Hell that he was right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2~Meeings**

As the jeep rolled casually over the vast sands of the desert, Lou laughed to himself as he watched Becker. He was going to enjoy this, he decided, and thought he would give the poor sod a heads up to the peril that awaited him, in the form of an angry Maria Holland.

"Oh, by the way, mate," Becker's watchful eyes faced the young assistant smirking behind the wheel

"Yes?"

"She really doesn't like you,"

By the time they had covered the half mile of desolate yellow nothingness, Becker was all too aware of the doctor's opinion of him, and was led into the tented construction to a slightly amusing scene; Holland's office was a cosy little room, furnished with a desk, a few chairs, a filing cabinet and a fridge/freezer. The doctor herself had her back to Becker as he walked in, stooping so as not to walk into the flap that resembled a doorway. He could see, behind the high, leather chair back, a pair of purple boot Converse All Stars lazily draped on the desk. Lou swerved past Becker and made straight for the fridge, only to be stopped, hand-on-door, by Holland.

"All alcohol in there is for medicinal purposes only, go get your own. Sorry, Colonel, you were saying?" Becker sniggered as Lou pulled a face at her as she resumed her phone conversation, and he edged past Becker into the room across the corridor.

"Yes, sir, I do... No, sir, I'm not entirely sure, sir, but I am rummaging through my filing cabinet as we speak, sir... Yes, sir, I'll see you in five minutes... No, I'm currently having a chat with Captain Becker, sir... Alright then, Sir." She dropped the phone down into the cradle and sighed, turning around to face Becker in the doorway, pulling her feet off the desk as she did so.

"What did he want?" came Lou's voice through the door, just as Holland was about to say something. She pulled a face at the beer bottle he was carrying, and indicated to Becker to sit down.

"The report on the med stocks from six months ago. He's lost it," Lou laughed.

"You haven't got a spare, have you?"

"Not on me, no,"

"I thought you kept a spare for everything,"

"I do, only this one's gone walkabout,"

"Oh dear God, what did you do with it?"

"Hey, don't drag my mother into this. I might've accidentally sent it to Seb," Lou banged his head on the filing cabinet. Becker sat in his chair, looking completely bemused. Lou explained the situation to him in simpler terms.

"She sent the most important document in the entire medical stretch of the military to her brother." Becker laughed despite himself, before Lou had an inspirational moment.

"Ooh! The mail came this morning! You'd better hope to heck that brother of yours has more brains than you do," He dashed out the canvas flap towards the mail room.

"So, then, the great Captain Becker, we meet at last. Sorry, I don't mean to sound horribly menacing, it runs in the family," I leaned back in my chair and watched Becker take in his surroundings. He looked like the normal soldier, short cropped, brown hair combed back off his face and a pretty passive expression on his face. I knew that he had a silenced pistol hidden in one of the hundreds of pockets his trousers held.

"You've set this stuff up quick, Doctor Holland," he said, leaning back in his own chair. I shrugged.

"Needs must, I guess. I figured that I'd do a much better job if I moved closer to the guy getting most of the men killed around here. And its Maria, by the way," My words stung him a bit, but I'd decided that I didn't like this man a long time ago, and I was going to hint that to him as much as possible.

"Yeah, I know. I don't suppose it had occurred to you that I don't exactly enjoy getting dozens of the best troops in our pathetic military slaughtered a day, did it?" he sounded so innocent, so nonplussed that I wanted to hit him.

"Ouch. No, I didn't, but writing death certificates isn't exactly my favourite of hobbies, so, you know," Becker shrugged,

"Apparently, I'm not supposed to care," I blinked at him. What? This is the sort of attitude that stuck up men like Colonel Richards like to have floating around? I was even more shocked at Becker's statement than I had been when Seb had dyed his hair orange for his seventeenth birthday. (And I don't mean ginger, I mean orange.) An apologetic smile threatened to break the unemotional features of the suddenly human Captain sitting opposite me.

"Yeah, I figured from Richards that I'm not supposed to give a crap about how many lives are lost. He didn't tell me that outright, of course, but I got the general idea." I was about to say something very rude about Richards taking that opinion and shoving it further up his arse than his head already was, when the very Hellhole came through the tent flap, Stick of Doom and Arse-Rape in hand. Becker jumped up out of his seat and threw a salute up, standing as straight as a barge pole as the pompous Colonel swaggered in. I, on the other hand, sighed and pushed myself up in my chair, looking reasonably respectful.

Richards was every inch the stuffy, up-his-own-ass Officer; he had the wide, fluffy moustache that reminded me of General Melchett from Blackadder, he walked with the swagger that was meant to make people intimidated when in fact he looked like he needed to use the bathroom desperately, and he carried the wooden stick that had no purpose other than giving him the general appearance of someone who was about to double over and use it as a walking cane. He stood in the doorway for longer than necessary, "evaluating" the room. Eventually, he barked in his very over-enthusiastic baritone,

"At ease, Captain," and Becker dropped back into the chair.

"Doctor Holland, the report I asked for on the phone?" he held out his hand and looked expectantly at me, while I attempted to stall for time.

"Uh... My assistant is, as we speak, fetching it, Sir; I think it's still in the transport van..." Richards peered around for another few moments, and was undoubtedly about to say something that would have caused me to get up and slap him, when Lou came charging in through the flap, almost barrelling into Richards.

"Sorry, Ri, the darned mail guy had put it in my pigeon hole! It's here," he handed me a letter written in Seb's spider-scrawl, and I found the report inside it. Handing it to Richards with a look of defiant smugness on my face, I watched him read through it and then stuff it inside his breast pocket.

"Right, very good work you're doing here, keep at it, wot?" striding out, he nearly stepped on Lou who had bent over to tie his shoelace.

"Get up off the floor, young rip! If you were under my command I'd have you doing thirty press-ups for insolence!" he strode off down the corridor and Lou gave him the finger as he turned the corner.

"Arrogant son of a bitch," I looked in surprise at Becker who was sitting in his chair with a look of plain disgust on his face.

"Well, I would prefer to use the phrases Bastard, Ass-Hole or maybe even Motherfucker, but son of a bitch works too," Becker's face practically doubled in size as the hugest grin I've ever seen spread across his face and he exploded with loud peals of bass laughter. It only lasted seconds before he stood up.

"I probably should get back, I've got to plan another suicide mission for tomorrow morning," I shook his hand.

"I'll be seeing you soon, then,"

"Hope not," he chuckled quietly and ducked back under the flap, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Becker jumped out of the jeep as it rolled back to his camp, before Lou turned it around and wheeled off in the other direction. Sgt Williams strode up to him, eyebrows raised.

"Anything like what you imagined?"

"Better," was all Becker said on the matter. He strode into his tent with Williams musing to himself over his ideas of what happened over there. Becker unfolded the map of the terrain, frowning at it as he thought to himself the best way to "infiltrate the enemy lines," as Richards had put it. Williams leaned casually on the table.

"So go on then, what's she like?" Becker didn't look up as he replied

"Well, she's, you know, a pretty standard gal." His Sergeant laughed

"Ok, that's it, you're in love with her," he punched Becker on the shoulder playfully

"Am not! Besides, she hates me, she made that clear,"

"Yeah? How?"

"Oh, you know, the old "I-don't-like-you-getting-so-many-people-killed" approach,"

"Fine, I guess that's fair. Are you going to tell me what she looks like, my love-crazed captain, or am I going to have to go over there and find out for myself?" Becker raised his eyes heavenwards at his Sergeant. He knew he wasn't going to stop pestering him, so seated himself on a cluttered desk.

"Well, she's got long strawberry blonde hair and green eyes, sense of humour my sister would awe at and a vicious hatred of Colonel Richards,"

"Just your type, then?"

"If you don't shut up about it, I'm going to have you on night watch, with no relief!" Williams laughed his way out of his Captain's tent, knowing that he would be hearing a lot about this Holland, if Becker would admit it or not. Neither of them thought twice about the plane circling just out of earshot above them.

Lou almost fell over laughing as Maria read out her brother's latest letter.

"'So when the angry parents of all these young men turn up, you'll need to lend me your pistol, and I know you have one so don't pretend otherwise.' Huh, that brother of mine really does have a mouth on him." Maria put the letter down and began chewing on the top of the biro in her hand.

"So what did you think of Becker?" She asked the somewhat hysterical Lou, but whether that was from the letter or the amount of beer he had drank that morning was against her.

"Uhh, I thought he was decent. He didn't seem to suit his job, though, with a laugh like that. I think he likes you!" he poked her in the ribs, and received a swift slap across the nose.

"Go drink some coffee, you drunken sod," Maria busied herself with looking for something in the filing cabinet, attempting to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. This, however, only brought Lou's giggling fit higher.

"Haaaaaaaaa! He likes you and you like him, I can tell by the look on your face when you shook his hand! Tee Hee!" Maria turned from the filing cabinet to face Lou, attempting to hide a smile on her lips.

"Lou, do you want to have kids later in life?"

"That would be nice, yeah."

"Shut up then!"

The banter and jokes ceased rapidly as an explosion went off about half a mile away. Maria and Lou raced outside, smiles and laughter history as they took in the scene in front of them:

Becker's camp had been reduced to a fire-ridden dust cloud!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3~Devastations **

Williams blinked hard to regain whatever scrap of consciousness he had left after the explosion, his blurry vision picking up the vague shape of a jeep rolling at what seemed like a thousand MPH towards him. He sat up with some difficulty as every bone in his body was aching like crazy, and wiped a hand across his blood-stained face. He moved his fingers and toes around, before moving on to his arms and legs and thanked whatever Gods there might be that he hadn't broken anything. Vision fully restored, he looked up at the jeep as the driver jumped out. A girl in a very short pair of hotpants and a vest, who he presumed was Doctor Holland, ran towards him and stretched out a hand, helping him up.

"Sergeant Williams, yeah?" she asked. He nodded stiffly

"I'm guessing Becker told you?"

"No, it's written on your shoulder. What happened here?" Williams coughed.

"I have no idea, my first guess would be a load of frag grenades, wired up to a very badly aimed bomb, but I haven't had a chance to look around yet," Holland sprang into action immediately.

"Ok, well I can see you're fine for now, so go through this mess and find anyone who isn't seriously injured. Get about a dozen of them shifting anyone who is to my jeep; Lou'll be along soon with a van to get them back to the hospital. Get the rest of them putting out these fires!" halfway through her speech, she began running off in the direction of the most carnage. It seemed that one half of the camp had avoided the worst of the blast, so Williams began his search there, finding people to help him. About ten minutes later, the heavy-wheeled sound of a van came out of the distance and Lou jumped out, opening the back and pulling foldable beds out with him.

"Where's Holland?" he called out to the first person he saw. He shrugged and pointed vaguely to a battered, torn tent, where Lou promptly ran off to. He found her attempting to shift a man out from under a bed. He picked up the bed and threw it as gently as he could manage to the other end of the tent.

"Thanks," she muttered. "Get him in the van, will you?" Lou supported the man over his shoulder and helped him limp over to the beds that the removal crew had already brought out. He saw the horrified looks on their faces and felt sorry for them, they had evidently been spared the cruel reality of war until now. He found Maria holding a conversation with someone he didn't know, and ran over to them.

"...fine, but that's not the issue, at least not the most important one. We need to get these people back to the hospital," she paused when she saw Lou.

"I've phoned the guys down at the main hospital," he said "They're going to be down here as quickly as the jeeps will go," Maria nodded.

"Ok, we need a head count," she indicated to the uniformed man standing next to her. "Lou, this is Sergeant Williams, Williams this is Lou," Williams and Lou exchanged nods. "I need you, seeing as you know everybody, to get everyone accounted for. I don't care how, as long as I find out who's missing in no more than a minute," Williams ran off to the jeep and van, calling to everyone who wasn't busy with the fires around the camp. Maria sighed deeply and closed her eyes for a long moment.

"You OK?"

"Yeah, just... letting it sink in, you know?"

"Kinda,"

"Well, no need to stand here gormlessly. We need to get everyone who needs it onto those beds and into the van, then back to base. Thankfully, there are only a few really serious injuries," Maria sighed again before regaining her composure as Williams came running up to them.

"We have everyone. Well, except one,"

"Who are we missing, Sergeant?"

Maria Holland's heard stopped momentarily as Williams uttered one name:

"Becker,"

The first thing Becker registered when the dim light of consciousness poked him with a dirty and unwanted fingernail was pain. Mind-numbing, piercing pain, searing down his back. He was lying on his front, probably under something, and he could vaguely make out the sticky mass swarming around him, which he presumed was his own blood. He tried to move and get up on his knees, but his body wasn't having that. The most important thing on his mind was not slipping back under. Not falling back into the subconscious. If he did that, he doubted he would make it out again. Suddenly, through the silence, he heard a shout. One, desperate shout coming from a familiar voice close to him.

"Becker!" it said, and he felt arms around his shoulders and saw the blurred and deformed edge of a dusty, purple shoe. At least, he thought it was purple. He heard the voice again, right next to him, clearer this time but only slightly.

"Becker, can you hear me?" he attempted some form of reply, but that wasn't going to happen either. He could hear the voice shouting to someone else, but he couldn't make out what it was saying. There were more voices now, they were slipping away from him, slowly at first, but fading away quicker and quicker. Knowing he was in safe hands, he allowed himself to fall away again, allowed the voices to fade completely. The last thing he registered was being pulled upwards by more than one pair of strong hands and lifted onto a stretcher bed. Then, nothing.

"Get him in my jeep," Maria said. She was being very calm, ridiculously calm, and Lou knew that she was trying very, very hard not to break down. He also knew that she wouldn't let herself snap, because if she did, it would mean the first life she hadn't been able to save, and he knew she wouldn't let that person be Becker. Anyone else, and she would consider it slightly OK, only slightly, but not Becker. Lou could read Maria like a book when her mind was set like this, and he had a very strong feeling that if she lost Becker, if he was the first person she had ever lost, she would probably explode. Explode and then go into a sulk for about a week. Actually, Lou didn't know what Maria would do. All he knew for absolute certain was that he didn't like the look that was slowly seeping into her emerald green eyes. He told Williams to supervise getting all the other casualties to the hospital and climbed behind the wheel of the jeep.

"What are you doing?" Maria's voice was cold, hard and steel-edged.

"I'm driving, because when you're in a mood like the one you're in, you can't even think straight, let alone drive straight. And besides, you'll need a hand," Maria shrugged and slid into the passenger seat, after checking that Becker was securely attached in the back. Lou put the jeep in drive and put pedal to floor, driving at a speed that was unsafe even in the vast emptiness of the desert. They covered the half-mile in less than a minute and pulled up right outside the hospital's front door-flap. Lou and Maria didn't need to tell each other what needed to happen; they had worked together for so long that each one knew what the other wanted doing and went and did it without any verbal communication needed.

The following half-hour dragged so slowly that Lou was convinced it was more like three. He didn't want to remember much about it. He remembered firing a few words at the other doctors that had arrived from the main hospital, telling them to meet Williams and see to what the wounded needed. He remembered seeing Becker's injury properly, and for the first time ever feeling like he wanted to faint. He also remembered, however, that as soon as Maria had entered the hospital, she was all business. He remembered her ordering him around, fetch this, and fetch that. He didn't mind. He also remembered staring in disbelief at the gaping hole in Becker's back, and asking her if she really was intending to stitch that up. She'd told him to be quiet and find her some surgical thread and a needle. A few very long and very shaky minutes later, Maria had somehow managed to restore Becker to a man again, and was now sitting in her office staring in a trance at the Rubix cube she was toying with in her hand. Lou was on his third bottle of beer since they'd finished, and was certain that they had something to do with the headache slowly creeping up on him, but he was beyond caring. Maria had said that only time would tell if Becker would live, and she had locked herself away ever since. Williams sat down on the bed next to Lou, awakening him from his thoughts.

"So she managed it, huh?"

"Dunno yet, won't really know till he either wakes up or doesn't,"

"Why don't you go get some rest, I'm pretty sure he's not going anywhere and I'll tell you the second he wakes up,"

Lou looked into Williams' eyes and nodded, suddenly realising that he hadn't slept in at least thirty hours.

"You know what? I might just do that," he handed his beer to Williams and managed to only get to his sofa before collapsing onto it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4~Restorations**

In Becker's dreams, the world was a weird dark blue. A weird dark blue with some splodges of purple showing through. Pretty much everything was this colour and, even in his dreams, Becker found it slightly odd. What also struck him as odd was the fact that nothing looked the same as it did in real life, but that was normal, he presumed. He also presumed that the fact that his dreams followed no real pattern, just random images of things he didn't understand, was normal too. He realised he was slipping away from these dreams when things started turning their normal colours, and then blanking out all together, before he finally opened his eyes.

The first thing that came to his attention was that he couldn't move his upper body. His legs were fine, if a bit sore, but at least he could move those. Looking around a bit and trying to ignore the splitting headache, he saw figures moving around in front of him. He then realised that he couldn't see properly, everything was a hazy blur. He heard voices next.

"Well, when I was a kid, I thought anyone driving without the window down on a hot day was mentally retarded," there was a laugh.

"Why?"

"My mum's car didn't have air-conditioning so I didn't know what it was." Another laugh.

Becker blinked rapidly, trying to get his vision working properly again. He faintly heard Robbie Williams playing in the background, and then the sound of running footsteps on the wood floor. The next thing he knew was that someone was standing over him holding a clipboard, he thought. Becker tried to sit up, but hands pushed him down gently.

"You are in no fit state to do much at the moment, so I suggest you don't try," the voice belonged to Maria Holland, so Becker assumed that it was her standing next to him. He tried to find his voice, failed, coughed for a while, and tried again.

"Can't see anything, is that normal?"

"Lou, can you put that light on please?" there was a bright flash and suddenly Becker could see properly again. He took in his surroundings. Maria was writing something on the clipboard in her hand, with bloodshot eyes, as if she hadn't slept for days. Lou was talking to Williams, both of whom looked like they hadn't slept recently either. He also saw, lying on the beds around him, the rest of his contingent, and painfully began to remember what had happened.

He remembered Williams leaving his tent, laughing, and he remembered frowning at a couple of maps for a while, trying to think up a strategy and failing miserably, simply because he couldn't stop thinking about Maria Holland. He then remembered, although he didn't really want to, the huge explosion, the blackness engulfing him pretty much immediately, and the brief moment of consciousness he experienced when Maria had found him. The memories added to his pounding headache, so he tried to block them out. He failed.

"What happened?" he asked. He heard Maria breathe in sharply, before saying

"We think that the Taliban launched a frag grenade bomb at your camp, and missed by a fair margin. No one else was seriously injured, a few cuts and scrapes, maybe, but nothing major," she went back to writing on the clipboard.

"When you say 'no one else,' you mean..." she sighed, preparing how to tell Becker what had happened to him.

"You got hit pretty hard, and something probably flew into you, because you have, well, had, anyway, a gaping hole in your back. you can't move, in case you were wondering, because if you twist the wrong way you'll open the whole thing up again, which will be messy, not to mention painful, so I've put you in a cast for now so that you don't. Basically, Becker, you're very lucky to be alive right now,"

Becker wondered how many people she had said that to.

"Ok," Becker paused, letting the information sink in. "So... How long am I going to be lying here?"

"Until I can take the stitches out, which won't be for at least another two weeks, so I suggest you get used to not moving," She made it sound so simple. Becker sighed and tried to sit up again. Maria rolled her eyes and pretty much lifted him into a sitting position, which wasn't as easy as it looked, considering how heavy Becker's muscular body made him.

"Right, well, now that you're going to be here enduring my company for the next, oh, I don't know, two months, I'm taking you off the duty line," Becker's shoulders dropped, this was the thing he had really not wanted to hear. He liked being this far out. It kept him away from his mother.

"How long for?"

"Permanently," Maria stated, and walked away.

Life in the field hospital had become pretty easy-going for Becker. He lay in bed all day, chatting to Lou, Maria or Williams and basically got whatever he wanted. The rest of his contingent had been sent back home and Williams was due to leave the next day. Becker had been there for a week already, and had argued constantly with Maria not to take him of the duty line permanently. She had simply said that with a scar traversing the length of his back, he couldn't do anything anyway, and besides, he could easily get another job in the military back home. Becker had grumbled when she said that. Jobs back in London were uneventful and usually involved patrolling the streets with an unloaded pistol, pretending that he would shoot anyone who caused trouble. Compared to being on the front line for six months, he hated the thought of anything else.

Becker awoke one night from a particularly disturbing dream about a couple of very large, pointy-eared dogs threatening to claw off his left ear, to see Maria sitting on the bed opposite him, reading a magazine and drinking from one of Lou's beer bottles. This shocked Becker more than seeing her up, because Maria never drank alcohol. Ever. She looked up, saw him and winked.

"Don't tell Lou," she whispered. He grinned and she stretched, yawning.

"Any reason why you're still up?"

"Not really, just a few bad dreams lately and a rather awkward sense of impending doom,"

"Right..." Becker was used to Maria using strange words and phrases, but her use of words still puzzled him. He sighed and wriggled up in his bed, a technique he had perfected whilst being confined to his cast and unable to move the upper part of his arms. Maria sighed too and lay backwards over the bed, touching her hands to the floor and immerging a minute or so later with eyes spinning.

"Sensible, that," Becker said.

"Hey, I'm the sarcastic git here. Don't steal my thunder," she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, seeming to go to sleep for a few minutes. During those minutes, Becker studied Maria in a way that he hadn't been able to without making himself look really silly. He noticed how the light played around with her fire-red hair, making it come alive and dance like real fire did. He noticed the millions of brown dots that covered her nose and exploded over onto her cheeks. He noticed how thin she was, which, for some reason, he hadn't noticed before, and understood why she never seemed to eat any more than an apple a day. He noticed her almost pencil-thin legs poking out of her Converses, and the natural beauty of her features.

Then her emerald green eyes snapped open and their gazes locked. Becker imagined two sparkling gems and seemed to get lost in them. He sat, gazing into Maria Holland's eyes for what seemed like hours but was actually mere minutes, losing himself in the emerald maze of beauty and seemingly glass-like perfection. And she gazed back into his, swimming in the dark brown depths that she didn't want to climb out of, not for a while, anyway. The hypnotising effects of his near-black eyes terrified her, yet she didn't want to let go.

There was a loud bang, and they both blinked, the moment over as Lou stumbled in. He had a hand over his nose and was dressed only in his boxers. Maria raised an eyebrow as he shuffled his way over to the bandage cupboard.

"Rolled outta bed an' knocked the table," he mumbled, fishing out a plaster. His nose was a rather ghastly shade of blue as he taped the plaster over it.

"Just go back to bed, Lou, it'll go pink again by tomorrow," Maria said, rolling her eyes and turning over, away from Becker. Lou mumbled something else about running over a cat with a shopping trolley, and shuffled back along the corridor.

"I don't think," Maria said slowly, "that he was actually awake,"

"How can you smack your nose into a table and sleep through it?" Becker found the idea very unrealistic.

"Don't actually know but he's done it before, that's how he got that scar going down his face," they lapsed into silence, while Becker attempted to wrestle with the strong and very dangerous feelings creeping into him. Maria sighed again, and sat up.

"Becker..."

"Ryan,"

"Youwhat?"

"My first name, it's Ryan,"

"Huh," 'What the heck did I tell her that for?' Becker asked himself. He never told people his first name, mainly because he didn't think anyone needed to know it.

"Ryan..." Maria rolled the name over in her mind a few times, testing it out. "Suits you," she finally said.

"Thanks, I think,"

"You think?"

"Yeah, I don't really like it much," He thought he heard her laugh at that, but was probably imagining things. "What were you going to say?"

"Hmm? Oh, it doesn't matter," She was about to get up and go to bed, embarrassed and furious with herself at the same time, when she remembered something her brother had once said;

"If you want to save yourself from embarrassment, Rio, don't let the opportunity arise," He had said that after attempting to beat his classmate in a game of M&Ms Poker, and, if Maria remembered correctly, had failed, quickly redeeming himself with some witty and sarcastic remark about the size of his opponent's "Small Head." She decided she was going to hate herself for what she was about to do. She got up off her bed and walked over to Becker, heart pounding furiously in her chest. "Goodnight," she said softly, and kissed him very lightly, withdrawing from it after a fraction of a second. She had planned to walk straight through her office and into her room, but Becker was too quick for her. Before she even had time to straighten up, he pulled the collar of her t-shirt, forcing her down. Quick as lightning, he pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her, feeling himself go dizzy and light-headed. He also realised, with that one passionate kiss that he had wanted to do that for a very long time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 ~ Repercussions **

The same word floated around and around Maria's mind as she lay in bed. Whoa. She hadn't kissed anyone before, not properly, anyway. She didn't think that Henry George counted, seeing as they had been very, very drunk at the time. Last night re-played itself over and over again. They had held that kiss for minutes, and when, eventually, they broke apart, they had stared into each other's eyes, like they had done before, and Maria had desperately wanted to kiss Becker again. She didn't. She had turned and gone to bed, the distance seeming to double with each step. Now, she lay in bed, re-living the moment and allowed a smile to creep over her lips. Daylight was threatening to end the perfect night and she wasn't tired anymore, so she got out of bed, dressed and found a pen and paper, attempting a reply to Seb's last letter. She reminded him that she didn't, in fact, have a pistol, and told him the general goings-on. She left out Becker.

She signed off when Lou came stumbling into her office, plaster removed.

"What the heck did I do last night?"

"You fell out of bed onto your filing cabinet,"

"Oh. And found a plaster, all without waking up?"

"It was rather amusing," Lou glowered at her before traipsing back into his own office. He emerged a few minutes later, dressed and hair-brushed, humming his way into the ward. Williams poked his head around the entrance

"He's cheerful this morning,"

"Strangely so, yes, considering that he managed to smack his nose on a table last night without waking up," Williams laughed before following Lou. He was dressed in his formal uniform and was expecting Colonel Richards to turn up in an hour or two to get him. Knowing the Colonel, Williams would still be there at lunch time. Maria sighed and prised herself off her chair, lacing up her Converses. She made her way to the ward, where she was greeted by a loud

"Bugger!" and a laugh from Williams and Becker. Lou had tripped over a floorboard again, and was busy trying to stamp it back down. What he failed to realise was that he was stamping on the wrong bit of floor.

"Lou, try stamping there,"

"Hm? Oh. Can you get those two to shut up, they're taking the piss out of me for something that I can't even remember doing,"

"How old are you, four? I'm not your mother," Lou glared at Maria again and, finally beating the floor into submission, left the ward, sulking. Maria was just opening her mouth to say something when he came charging back in again.

"Richards is here!" he yelled, before the man himself came striding into the room. He looked his usual self, moustached, stick-in-hand, and looked expectantly at their surprised faces. He was early. A whole hour and three-quarters early. That never happened.

"You're early, Sir," Williams said. Richards waved his non-stick-holding hand dismissively.

"No I'm not, you received the wrong memo," he said matter-of-factly. They hadn't received the wrong memo; Richards just didn't want to admit to getting the timings wrong. "Are we ready, Williams, or do I have to wait in the car?"

"Ready, Sir!" Richards nodded and went out to the car anyway. Williams made his goodbyes, shook hands with Lou, clapped Becker on the shoulder and gave Maria a hug. Then he picked up his holdall and left.

The ward was in silence for a few seconds.

"Did I tell you how much I hate that guy?" Lou piped up.

"Yes," Maria and Becker said at the same time. There was an almighty crash.

"Sounds like mail's here," Lou said, running out. He came back in again moments later and dumped a well-stuffed brown envelope on Maria's lap; Frisbee'd a letter at Becker, missed, picked it up and tried again with better luck, before sitting down with his own. They lapsed into silence again.

"Hmm, this day keeps getting better and better," Maria said at last.

"Oh?"

"My dad snuffed it last week," she said, turning the page she was reading over.

"Really? What happened?"

"Chain smoking, a dare apparently," this seemed to amuse Lou to no end, and he fell off his bed in fits of laughter. Maria began to whistle along to Bernard Cribbins' "When I'm Sixty Four" playing off the stereo in the corner, still reading.

"Most people," Becker said quietly, "are upset when their parents die," Maria waited for Lou to quieten down before answering.

"Yes, and I should be, except that I cannot name a single person I hate more than my father. Even if I tried, I doubt I could find anyone, and that, Ryan, is why I really don't give a damn. In fact, I think my mood just lifted enormously," a grin broke out over her face and she returned to the letter in her hand, chuckling quietly to herself. Becker started to wonder if she was slightly mad. Lou jumped up suddenly.

"Who got the house?" he asked expectantly. Without looking up, Maria handed him the rest of the contents of the envelope. Lou scanned it and burst into fits again, showing Maria one page. She read it, read it again, and swore.

"Excuse me, Ladies, I have to make a phone call," she said, walking into her office in a bit of a trance. There was another eerie silence as Lou read the rest of the pile of papers in his hand.

"What was that all about?" Becker asked.

"Oh, Maria hates her dad," Lou said absent-mindedly

"Yeah, I got that. Why, though?"

"Uhh, she's probably better at telling you than I am,"

"You're avoiding the question,"

"Ok, fine. Maria left school at sixteen because she had three science, both English and a maths A-Level already and decided she might as well go to medical school and skip sixth form because she didn't see the point of sticking around when she had all the qualifications she needed, wanted and whatever. Her plan was foiled slightly by her dad. See, her brother left school at sixteen too, but this was because he had enough of their dad being an ass and left home entirely. Of course, if you ask him, he won't tell you that their dad was being an ass because Seb had failed all but one of his GCSEs, but that's off the point. So, yeah, Father Dearest decided that Maria could do something useful with that brain of hers and refused to let her leave. She just snuck out the window in the middle of the night. Now, Maria's dad is very good at hating people, and once Maria had completed Medical School, she went back to see him. He, however, refused to talk to her. Every time she's been back home since, he's refused to talk to her. So she gave up, decided he's being a twat and never bothered after the third time,"

"Does her dad not talk to Seb too?" Becker asked after letting this all sink in.

"Nope. That's why she hates him so much. He and Seb get on like best friends. That's what pissed her off. Her dad could get over her brother being effectively a failure, but hates Maria for doing her own thing. I don't get it either, and I probably missed out something important, but that's the general idea," Becker's eyebrows had become permanently etched on the top of his head by the time Lou finished.

"So what was so funny about that letter?"

"Oh, her dad owned the largest private fortune in England. It was mostly in his great-something grandmother's jewellery and half a million _very_ nice cars, but he also had a huge mansion in the middle of the English countryside. Beautiful place, apparently. The funny part is that he gave half his money, the estate and all of his possessions to Maria," Impossibly, Becker's eyebrows had crept even higher up his head.

"So, he hates her and he gives her practically all his stuff?"

"Pretty much, yeah,"

"Umm... ok," Lou shrugged.

"I don't get it either, but..."

"NO SEB, I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK!" Becker jumped as Maria's voice came flying in.

"Don't worry," Lou said in a lighter tone, "Conversations between those two usually end like that. They usually start like that too, actually," Maria came storming back in, looking like she wanted to kill someone.

"That bad, huh?" Lou asked

"Complete ignoramus, has already told half the family that I will be attending the funeral, even though he knew full well I won't, goes on for twenty minutes on the "he-gave-you-all-that-stuff-you-have-to-turn-up" lecture, and then..."

"Maria?"

"What?"

"Calm," Lou said, placing his hands on her shoulders. Maria took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Sorry about that," she said, shaking her head slightly, "I don't know what I did to deserve such a crap family, I really don't," She sat down heavily on a bed, staring blankly at a crease in the wall.

"You still haven't done his bandages yet," Lou pointed out a few hours and an amusing lunch break later, jerking his head towards Becker. Maria slapped a hand to her head.

"Knew there was something I'd forgotten," she mumbled. Her foul mood hadn't entirely lifted. She rummaged around in one of the many cupboards that sat on each other by the door and emerged with a roll of bandages in one hand and a pair of scissors in another.

"Shirt," she said to Becker, who obediently pulled his t-shirt off and rolled over onto his front, cupping his chin between his hands. Maria unrolled the bandages already on his back, revealing the long pink scar that stretched from the base of his neck to the small of his back in an arrow-straight line, broken every centimetre by a long black thread.

"Ooh, yay, I can take that out now," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "If it hurts, say ow," she said to Becker and cut the knot off one end of the thread. It slid out easily and Becker shuddered.

"That felt weird," he said. Maria smiled, remembering the time she had stitches and the feeling that made her skin crawl when they'd been taken out.

"I'm gonna put bandages on again, but I'll take them off tomorrow, ok?" Becker frowned. He didn't like not being able to move his upper arms. It made him feel like an Egyptian Mummy. Maria laughed at his expression.

"You looked just like my nephew for a second there," she mused.

Later, when all was quiet and dark and everyone was supposed to be asleep, Becker woke from another strange dream about dogs. He wasn't sure if it was the dream that had woken him up, or the fact that his new bandages were really, really itchy. He shuffled a little bit, trying to make himself comfortable again, when he noticed the light was on. Maria was on the same bed she had been on the night before, reading another magazine. Deja Vu flashed in Becker's mind. As he watched, a single tear slowly made its unwelcome way down the side of Maria's face. She made no effort to wipe it away, just let it roll down and onto the shiny page she was reading. She stared at it for a few seconds, before sighing and turning the page. Another tear followed the first.

"So you do care, then," Becker said softly. Maria sighed again and looked up.

"I don't know, Ryan, I really don't know. I'm not too fussed that he's dead, I just wish I could've made up with him," Her voice broke and she closed her eyes as more tears flowed down her face. She looked fragile like that. Like she would break if she so much as moved, and Becker debated with himself if getting up and putting an arm around her would be worth the damage he could do to himself if he did. He settled for the next best thing, and shifted to the far end of his bed, patting the free space. She got up and, kicking off her Converses, sat down next to him, burying her face into his neck. He held her there and felt the warm tears falling down and soaking into his bandages. After a minute, Maria wriggled out of his grip and wiped her face with the sleeve of her cardigan. Their eyes met again, hers full of sadness, his concern, and Becker kissed her. Softly, not like last time. He still felt that if he pressed too hard, she would shatter. She wrapped one hand around his neck and pressed the other into his chest, feeling the muscles beneath it. They broke apart and Maria slid down so that she was lying next to him. Becker did the same, and she snuggled against his chest, eyes closed. He didn't sleep again that night, but lay awake listening to Maria's steady breathing and let his imagination play its cruel games with him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6~Endings**

Two weeks had passed since Maria had let Becker get up and start walking around again, and Maria was stalling. Colonel Richards had asked her numerous times when Becker would be out of there, and every time she had mumbled something vague about the end of the week. Now, however, Richards was getting impatient.

"No, Sir, he..."

"Holland, it's been two weeks now since you let him out of bed, and I know for a fact that he is perfectly fine!" Maria sighed, cursing inwardly. Becker had been in a fit state to leave about a week and a half ago. The only problem was, she didn't want him to. He didn't feel particularly happy about leaving either, but she was now pretty certain that their time was up.

"I'm coming to get him tomorrow," Richards' voice was saying, "And I'm not leaving without him," With that, he hung up. Maria sighed again and dropped the phone back into its cradle. Suddenly it occurred to her that she had taken Becker off the Front-Line duty list, so what the heck could Richards want with him? She stood up and went through to the main ward, where Lou was trying to balance a spoon on his nose. He wasn't succeeding. Maria raised an eyebrow at him before falling heavily onto Becker's bed.

"Richards?" he asked. He already knew the answer.

"Mmm-hmm," Maria replied. She was half asleep already. Talking with Colonel Richards wore her out.

"What did he say?"

"He's coming to pick you up tomorrow," there was an awkwardly long pause.

"Oh," Becker said at last.

"What's he picking you up for, anyway?" Lou asked with a comically puzzled expression on his face. At any other time, Maria would have laughed.

"Uhh, some government thing in London. Classified, Top-Secret malarkey that I'm not allowed knowing about,"

"Sounds like fun," Lou said sarcastically before returning his attention to the spoon. Maria sighed again and leant against Becker's knees, staring blankly at one of Lou's shoelaces. Becker sat up and brushed her cheek with his thumb, sensing one of her uncharacteristically unhappy moods. Lou coughed and left the room, taking the spoon with him.

"What's up?" Becker asked once he'd left.

"Possibly the most stupid question you have ever asked me," Maria said, sitting up and turning around to face him.

"Possibly. So?" Maria sighed again

"I just don't want you to go, that's all," she stared vacantly at her hands and made a mental note to cut her fingernails at some point in the next day.

"I don't want to go either. But I have to. I don't really have much choice in the matter,"

"I know,"

"Doesn't help, does it?"

"Nope," he picked up her hand and started playing around with her fingers, intertwining his with them. For a while, neither of them said anything, each other's presence being enough. Then Lou stuck his head round the door.

"Hate to break up the party here, but Ri your phone's been ringing for the last minute or so," Maria dragged herself off the bed, pulling her fingers free. Her brother Seb was on the other end of the phone, going on about some favour she apparently owed him. She hung up without saying anything, not in the mood for arguing. She debated pulling the plug out of the socket but decided against it, just in case something huge happened. Thankfully, Seb didn't ring back.

Morning came far too quickly for anyone's liking and the hum of a jeep approaching could be heard. Richards came marching out of it, and Maria was struck by a sudden image of her beating him on the head with his stick.

"You look after her, yeah?" Becker said to Lou, shaking his hand. Lou raised an eyebrow.

"You think I'll need to?" He noticed the seriousness of the look on Becker's face and nodded solemnly. Becker turned to Maria and hugged her close, wishing he didn't have to let go. Maria willed herself not to cry. It didn't work, and a tear slid down her cheek. Becker wiped it away and pulled her close again, pressing his mouth onto hers, desperate for the last few seconds they had together. Lou glared at Richards' driver, who had appeared in the doorway wanting to know what was taking so long. He nodded understandingly and left.

"I'll let you know when I've settled down," Becker whispered. Maria nodded and hugged him tightly, wrapping her arms around his neck like an annoying child, refusing to let go. He pulled them off and kissed her again, softer. He turned then and left, knowing that if he didn't soon he never would. Maria followed him out and watched as he climbed into the jeep next to Richards. She didn't wave as they drove away from the hospital, just watched as the jeep became smaller and smaller until she couldn't see it anymore, and stared at the space where it had been for another half an hour. Her tears evaporated instantly in the dry heat, looking like they were never there.

Another dot soon appeared on the horizon, moving quickly. Another jeep. As it got closer, Maria saw that it was being followed by an Armoured Personnel Carrier. They were replacing Becker's contingent. Fantastic. Maria groaned inwardly and went indoors to find Lou, regretting standing out in the sun for so long. Her shins had burnt. She was greeted by angry shouts from her office.

"...they launched bombs on the last lot and it's only a loose miracle that they weren't all killed! How long do you think they will take to do it again?" Lou listened to the reply with clenched fists. He was about to shout a reply telling whoever was on the end where to stick their plan, when Maria pulled the phone out of his hand. He mouthed 'Richards' at her before leaving the room.

"Colonel? Would you care to explain why another contingent is about three minutes from my doorstep, taking into account what happened last time?" there was a short silence.

"I'm sending another group to continue where Captain Becker left off," was the eventual reply. "The mission he was leading is too important in this war to halt on the basis of a single, badly-aimed bombing raid,"

"Sir, with all due respect, my assistant was right in saying that it is only a small amount of time before they figure out we're starting it all up again, and do it again. I don't think that this time they will be quite as careless in their aim. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they were watching the rapidly advancing APCs and telling their superiors right at this very moment,"

"Your concern, while useless, is noted, Doctor Holland but..."

"I seem to be the only one around here CONCERNED about the lives of about fifty men and women!" Maria was beyond patience and niceties. "Anyone with half a brain can see that this 'Mission' is a complete waste of time, lives and resources, and anyone with an ounce of common sense would pull us out of here!" Another awkward silence followed Maria's outburst.

"Is that your medical opinion, Doctor?"

"Yes, Sir, it is,"

"Very well," The line went dead. Maria was about to throw the phone against the freezer in complete frustration, when Lou's face came around the doorframe.

"The new Captain wants a 'small chat,'" he said, his voice deadpan. A tall, blonde woman strode into the room after him, hand outstretched. Her blue eyes shone with a look of artificial pleasure that could only come from years of practice, and Maria eyed the guns on her belt with distain. She really did not like guns, and usually banned anyone from bringing them in. Right now, she couldn't frankly be bothered. She forced a smile that she hoped looked real enough, and shook the Captain's hand.

"Hey there," she said brightly. Great. Americans. "Captain Sylvie Slattern,"

"Maria Holland, I'm guessing you've already met Lou?"

"Briefly, yeah. We'll be setting up camp a half-mile south," she winked. "Just so you know,"

"Yes, I know. You're not the first group here, Captain Slattern," The artificial smile vanished from Slattern's face at Maria's cold attitude. She nodded, and walked out, saying nothing else.

"Something tells me," Lou said slowly, "that you don't like her,"

"Really? How could you tell?"

Two weeks in to Slattern's escapade, Maria and Lou had already received seventeen casualties, four of which they hadn't been able to save. Maria hadn't smiled or even said anything other than what was necessary since Becker had left, and he still hadn't phoned. Her mood was getting worse, and Lou was starting to worry.

"Come on then, out with it," he confronted her one morning as she sat at her desk doing pretty much nothing at all, something they couldn't afford to do. She looked at him, her expression telling him to elaborate.

"You've been in a foul mood the last two weeks," he said, folding his arms, "it's not like you and I don't like it. So what's up?" Maria sighed and leaned back in her chair.

"I just don't believe that he would be so stupid as to do this again," she declared. That wasn't enough for Lou.

"You're pissed off 'cos he hasn't called yet, aren't you?"

"Might be," she turned away from him, tracing a line on her desk.

"He might have written. It could be in the post right now, you know how long that stuff takes. Or he might just be busy. I don't believe for a second that he's deliberately putting it off, he's not that kind of guy," he walked around her desk to face her. "You need to stop worrying, this place has been the Land of the Rainclouds since he left," for the first time in two weeks, Maria Holland smiled a genuine smile.

"You're right, Lou, I'm making a fuss out of nothing," she got up out of her chair. "What was I meant to be doing today?"

"Just the usual stuff, three patients bandages need changing and..."

Lou was cut short as an almighty explosion went off, seemingly right inside the room they were standing in, and the two of them were hurled by an unseen force across the room and into the back wall.

Lou blinked. At least, he thought he did, he couldn't see anything anyway. He blinked again and this time, a fuzzy white room came into view. After a couple more blinks, he realised he was in the old Field Hospital, the one he and Maria had moved out of. He sat up and saw Maria on the bed next to him, fingers twitching slightly. The pale face of Matt Flamhaff, one of the other doctors that worked there, came into view.

"What the hell..?" he asked the Irishman, wincing at the sudden headache.

"Oh, the usual, only this time they bombed the hospital and the camp at the same time," Matt scribbled something on a clipboard and looked Lou straight in the eye

"No one else survived, Lou. Just you and Maria,"

Three boring and monotonous hours later, during which Lou hadn't been allowed to get up, despite him insisting to Matt that he was fine, Colonel Richards came marching in. Lou was suddenly glad Maria hadn't woken up yet. He started a whispered conversation with Matt, which Lou caught occasional snippets of after a few minutes when Richards' 'whisper' rose in volume.

"Can't wait for them... Going to have to re-build it... Post another contingent..."

"You have got to be joking!" Lou looked up to see Maria sitting bolt up right, glaring savagely at Richards. "Do you not get it by now? You're getting nowhere with this, and all you are doing is getting people killed!"

"This is a vital information gathering mission, Holland! These people have sacrificed themselves for this cause, and you will do well to not stick your nose into matters that don't have anything to do with you! I won't..." Richards never finished his sentence. Maria had, in the space of three seconds, crossed to the other side of the room and now stood there, fists clenched. Richards was on the floor, a hand over his nose. It was bleeding and obviously broken in at least two places.

"Everything around here," Maria said quietly, "is my business," She turned on her heel and strode out of the room, out of the hospital and into one of the jeeps waiting outside. A second later, Lou slid into the seat next to her.

"Where we going?"

"Home. As in, London kind of home. I'm done here,"

"Cool,"

Maria put the jeep in gear and sped, tyres spinning, off towards the nearest airstrip.


End file.
